Sunday, April 1, 2007

How to Roast a Campfire Marshmellow

Decide to go to the beach in one small truck with jump seats for the back of the cab with 3 adults one 6 yr old and a baby .
Pack tent for baby, along with everything in the house for the baby.
Load 4 chairs, wood, matches, rocket, rocket launchers, kite, and everything to make margaritas.
Pack 4 skewers and one bag of marshmallows.
Heat thermos, make coffee.
Ask who has the Grand Mariner?
Load 2 adults into the back jumpseats, one baby in the front seat, one child center console.. and squeeze the driver in.
Check to be sure 4 wheel drive has been engaged.
Ask if anyone remembered the Grand Mariner.
Arrive safely onto beach in front of the bathrooms, in the sand, with only a few minor head injuries.
Unload truck.
Set up the babies tent, swing, rocker, chair, and clean bottle station.
Poor margaritas, build a kite.
Kites are no fun, ask where the rockets went.
Fire off rocket # 1, lose in ocean. Marvel at the oceans vastness.
Fire off rocket # 2. Ask who brought the first aid kit.
Build a bonfire without kindling... no one thought of it. BLOW ALOT.
Make another batch of margaritas... ask about the whereabouts of the Grand Mariner. Take a HIKE to the bathrooms in the sand.
Begin the lesson on proper campfire marshmallow roasting.
Stand 4 skewers with 3 marshmallows on each end, diagonally close to the bonfire. Wait. (ever ask a 6 yr old to wait?)
Ask if anyone brought potholders for said skewers. Check on the baby in the tent.
Take a picture.
Tell stupid story about evolution while marshmallows cook. Someone found the Grand mariner.. thank God!
Poor coffee, into grand mariner. ( notice the equivalency)
Begin closing arguments on theory of evolution. Use one skewer to injure said story teller. ( now I don’t have to eat the damn marshmallow anyway)
Break out into laughter when 6 year old refuses to wait any longer for HIS marshmallow and sets them alllll on fire.
Get into the tent with the baby and make someone take a picture.
Decide to go home because its too windy and there is now sand in the crack of your behind.
Load truck in reverse, see above instructions.
Decide upon new driver because of too many margaritas and reload said truck.
Drive off the beach hoping against hope that your grandson now knows how to roast a marshmallow, that evolution is not a shared opinion of his Nonni’s, that Papa is a fun loving sort of man,that JOKES alot, and that the sand really will come out of the crack of your behind eventually.
Arrive safely at home, where u have to UNDO all that you have done, kiss the baby goodnight, wag your finger at margarita man, tell your daughter to Kill the rest of the bottle of Grand Mariner, sleep peacefully knowing that every family is dysfunctional to a certain degree.


Karen said...

u are so nuts,,, i lmao at this. mmm grand marnier sounds good

The Sarah Bear said...

LOL! This was a hysterical post - YOU ARE SO FUNNY! I was sooooo there just be reading what you wrote, in fact, I almost feel like I got sand in my pants!

I'd buy your book Gina... you just need to write it!

Love ya

Anonymous said...

Well Gina, in my next life when I reencarnite, I want to come back as you, I sure could use some disfunction in this boring stale life I have.

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